EDITORS DESK
Kevin Quiambao, one of the biggest names in the collegiate ranks, was embroiled in controversy for his alleged involvement in many “ligang labas,” or pocket tournaments that are usually done in barangays or towns, mostly organized by local politicos who desire to blend basketball — the country’s unofficial sport of choice — with unadulterated and unfiltered brand of entertainment.
Raw, intense, highly physical, with the stakes ranging from mere championship trophies and bragging rights, to millions of bets from benefactors or the team managers themselves. Surely a hit for ordinary Filipino basketball diehards.
But these are the very reasons why prized players, like Quiambao, are being scrutinized for joining such uncontrolled environments where tempers usually flare.
In the heat of the moment, hotheads are becoming violent, with rabid fans who are overly passionate getting into the mix, resulting to a wild chaos that sometimes lead to bloody incidents.
To say the least, “ligang labas” also poses a danger to the health and well-being of the players. Think of the injuries that may come in these types of rowdy situations. Homegrown standouts, when facing top-caliber opponents, will go hard and straight, no matter who you are, for a piece of glory that should make his local barrio fans alive and hysterical.
But flipping the side of the coin offers a different perspective to understand Quiambao, or the other amateur or professional cagers who carry their big names and lurk around for some small-time tournaments.
It’s not a hard choice, after all. It’s a necessity.
Quiambao explained that De La Salle, his mother team in the UAAP, gave its blessing for him to play beyond the premises of the gigantic arenas, away from spotlight and the glam of being that famous guy in the news.
He admitted of joining unsanctioned competitions, on his own capacity and decision, to make ends meet. It is for his family, the new dad said. Quiambao welcomed his first son last month.
While the motive varies from one player to another, we are, indeed, always in pursuit of ways to improve our lives. Basketball players are no exception.
In reality, some dribblers, those who are professionals, get hefty paychecks and tons of endorsements. The amateur ones, those in college or as young as high school students, only get allowances, proper food for nutrition and accommodations — well, sometimes none at all.
We all get it, then why join “ligang labas?”
Simple answer: not everyone has that privilege. We are not created equal.
With money coming as a token for becoming a one-day soldier in a distant land, who would think twice? Quiambao, gifted as he is, was enticed by invitations to be an import when the tournament odds are high but the wager dangles a lofty sum.
The DLSU main man, and all the other “ligang labas” regulars should not be judged on the basis of their prominence and the pettiness of accepting side gigs.
They took the risks for logical objectives in life.
Unless they act outside the bounds of law, let them play.
(Ramon Rafael C. Bonilla is the Sports Editor of Manila Bulletin.)